My Disgusted Wife

When did it start? I feel disgusted with my wife. Maybe it was that ordinary afternoon when she dipped the child's drool-stained steamed buns into the oily soup on the plate and stuffed them into her dry, cracked mouth; or maybe it was the summer a few years ago when she squeezed her bloated body after childbirth into the tight skirt I carefully selected for her when I was in love with her, and circles of greasy fat bulged around her arms and waist; Or maybe it was not long after I met her, when she was complacent in treating herself as my fiancée, lowering her profile to please my family and friends, but she was judged as a bargain by them behind my back. Whenever these memories emerge from the depths of my mind, I feel dizzy. It is physiological disgust. It is my body warning me - stay away from her! Stay away from her!